Tilt A Whirl
by philalethia
Summary: In which Daisuke is adorable and Takeru is repressed. Daikeru


Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. Digimon and its characters are the property of Bandai/Toei Animation. Sad, isn't it? I could have made it so much fun.

---

It is a well-known fact that every once in a while life likes to just take you on its shoulders and spin you around until you're dizzy and incapable of moving. There seems to be no particular reason for it – or at least, not one that is easily perceived – and it is, as far as Takeru is concerned, alternately the most annoying and amusing thing ever.

One of the first times life decided to do this was, of course, when he was eight and he discovered that he had a _digimon_ of all things and that he was one of the kids chosen to save the Digital World. Then, years later, it happened again when he discovered that he was _still_ part of the Chosen, the Digital World _still _needed saved, and Patomon could evolve into something other than Angemon.

Of course, neither of those were what one would call psychologically damaging and both had no long-term effects, as opposed to the time when he just happened to stumble upon Yamato and Taichi in a compromising position that he could have lived without seeing. The world was spinning for weeks after that, and Takeru was sure he would never walk straight again.

None of those, however, even compared to when, approximately two weeks ago, Daisuke meandered over to him after school and said, in a quiet please-don't-stab-me sort of voice, "Hey, Takeru. How about we go out sometime?" Except he said it with a few thousand 'um's and 'uh's and '…'s, and Takeru nearly dropped his books because Daisuke as a general rule just doesn't speak like that.

"Um," replied Takeru, who was sometimes known to speak like that. He observed the way Daisuke was clenching his fingers around his sleeves and looking everywhere but at him, gave a mental 'Aw hell no,' and continued, "We already hang out a lot, actually, I thought."

"Oh. Um. Yeah, we hang out a lot, but-" Daisuke went slightly pink, and it was sort of cute in a disconcerting way. "But I thought may we could, you know, _go out_ sometime."

Takeru blinked as his world abruptly fell off its axis and began to bounce around his head like a confused and disoriented fly. "Oh," he said faintly. "Oh."

Daisuke was looking pale and sick and like he wanted nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow him whole, and Takeru thought, 'Oh, what the hell?'

"Sure."

There was an odd moment then, when Daisuke finally raised his eyes and Takeru had a sudden, fleeting suspicion that his arms were about to be filled with a giddy, laughing goggled boy. Daisuke didn't move, though, only grinned stupidly for a moment and bounced up and down on his heels.

"Great!" he exclaimed, bouncing even more vigorously. "I'll call you, all right?"

"All right."

Daisuke looked as though he might burst at any moment, and Takeru – not particularly desiring to wear gooey globs of giddiness any time soon – turned and retreated, dizzy and stumbling because his world was still bouncing in imperfect circles around his head, and he feared it would never fall back in its place.

Takeru really sort of wondered about himself sometimes.

---

They set the date for 7:00 on Saturday night, and at 6:45 Takeru was pacing back and forth on the floor of his living room while Yamato and Hikari sat on the sofa and grinned.

"I'm not nervous," he told them, and there was a shared noise of amusement in response. Obviously they didn't believe him, which was fine because, really, he wasn't even sure he believed himself. There was an odd, fluttery sensation in his stomach that was just a bit suspicious.

"I think it's cute," said Hikari, smiling brightly at her best friend. "Did you know he asked Tai to come over and help him get ready? He was so excited and nervous."

"Tai?!" screeched Yamato. "Why _him_? Why wasn't _I_ informed? If he takes my baby brother to a _soccer game_ for their first date, there are two freaky-haired idiots who will die."

"I don't think Dais will do that, Yamato, not after the fit you threw when Taichi took you to one on your first date."

"I _hate_ soccer. I _despise_ soccer. He was my _best friend_ before he was anything else; he _knew_ how much I hated soccer. There was no reason for me to be sitting on that bench, watching a game that I neither understood nor enjoyed, while my date jumped up and down and screamed obscenities in my ear."

"You have to admit that it was sweet, though. He loves soccer, and he wanted to share that love with you."

"Sweet?! It was _selfish_!"

"I wouldn't mind going to a soccer game," said Takeru timidly, but his words went unacknowledged as Yamato and Hikari continued to bicker as only potential in-laws could.

He sighed and fingered the hem of his shirt, which was, he now noticed, rather clingy, and was it really intelligent to wear something tight on his first date with a boy? Daisuke really didn't seem the type to make assumptions based on the tightness of a shirt, but does one ever really know another? Takeru thought that he should change posthaste to ensure that his virtue remained unsullied, and he had taken two steps towards his bedroom when the doorbell rang and his shoes froze to the floor while his eyes gazed, wide and imploring, at his brother.

"Oh no," said Yamato. "Your date. You answer the door."

Bad things were going to happen to his brother some day soon, Takeru thought, and turned his gaze on Hikari who was grinning wickedly at him. Suddenly, he knew what she was going to say before she had opened her mouth.

"Be a man, Takeru."

Bad things were going to happen to his best friend, too, and he would laugh when they did.

His legs felt distressingly like spaghetti noodles as he moved, and he half-hoped that they would give entirely before he opened the door. Then, Daisuke would just have to find another blond innocent to court.

He did not just think 'court'. Nor did he think 'blond innocent'. Nope, not at all. Thank you, and goodnight.

Takeru had prepared himself for several things when he opened the door, ranging from a suit and tie to a bathrobe and cigar, but he hadn't quite expected this.

Daisuke. Just as, well, Daisuke. The same shirt and shorts that he always wore, his goggles nestled in the dark spikes of his hair. He looked so familiar and harmless that Takeru immediately berated himself for thinking he'd come as anything but himself and then wondered if he should make a break for his hat, which he'd removed for the night at Yamato's insistence.

Suddenly, his head was feeling very naked.

"Well, little brother, we'll leave you to it," said Yamato, laying a hand on Takeru's shoulder and causing the younger boy to jerk violently in surprise. "Call me when you get back."

Of course, Takeru thought, now he gets up.

Hikari slipped past Daisuke and, with a final encouraging smile in his direction, out of sight. Yamato moved to follow her, but stopped briefly behind Daisuke's back to give Takeru a 'go for it' gesture. Either that or he wanted his brother to sock Daisuke in the jaw, Takeru couldn't be sure. Then he was gone, and the two boys were alone.

"Um," said Daisuke, and then Takeru got a face-full of daisies. "Here. I, uh, thought roses would be sort of, um…so, yeah."

"I-" Am not a woman. Do not need flowers. Have no idea what to do with these. Am vaguely, sort of, flattere-_no_. Am not impressed by your wily schemes, Daisuke Motomiya. "Thank you."

He was sorely tempted to crush the daisies' stems in his grip, but he resisted, figuring that if nothing else Daisuke would see and be offended. Instead, Takeru held them gently and wondered how appropriate it would be if he just left them on the coffee table for an indefinite amount of time.

Not very appropriate, he imagined. Ah, well. He supposed he should thank his lucky stars that they were daisies and not pansies. He turned on his heels and addressed Daisuke over his shoulder.

"I'm, uh, going to, um, put these in water. Be back."

Takeru's heart pounded in his throat as he filled one of his mom's least favorite coffee mugs with water and arranged the flowers in it. He swallowed several times in an attempt to put his heart back in its rightful position in his chest, but to no avail. He leaned against the counter, closed his eyes, and rested his palms against his sternum for a long moment before he felt calm enough to return to the other room where his…date… was waiting.

Daisuke was exactly where he'd left him: standing in the open doorway, eyes darting every which way and lingering only slightly on Takeru before they fell to his own shoes.

"I thought we'd catch a movie," he said, and this time when his gaze settled on Takeru, it stayed. "If you want to, of course, and it's okay if you don't. I just thought that-"

"That sounds great," said Takeru and pointedly ignored the way his heart had fallen just a little too far at the prospect of him and Daisuke in a darkened theater. "The 7:45 showing time, right? We'd better get going."

"Yeah. Yeah," replied Daisuke and gazed adoringly as the blond checked his pockets for his house key.

'Oh lord,' thought Takeru. He smiled faintly and received a blinding grin in response. 'Oh lord.'

He all but stumbled out the door.

---

Never before had Takeru felt so threatened by something so simple as a movie theater.

Daisuke had insisted that he choose the movie they were to see, and so after a mere second of perusing the available choices Takeru had chosen the lesser of three evils. The romance and children's movie were out, he figured, because there would likely be lots of fluff and embracing and possibly kissing and (though his heart gave a suspiciously pleasant lurch at the thought) he wasn't so sure that he should be giving Daisuke ideas.

The sci-fi/horror movie looked far more promising. Between monsters devouring human heads and vehicles randomly exploding, Takeru thought that he would be relatively safe for the night.

He thought wrong.

Daisuke apparently found it necessary to invade Takeru's personal bubble at all times, standing next to him in the ticket line and even going so far as to sit in the seat _right next _to him, as though Takeru might simply forget who he was here with and go home with the family at the end of the row.

And as if that wasn't bad enough, Daisuke had insisted on purchasing a bag of popcorn, which he then placed _on his thigh_ and proceeded to inform Takeru that he could have some too.

Takeru was still working on a way to politely explain that he wasn't interested in reaching across the armrest and putting his hand so close to the organ that Daisuke was clearly thinking with. Rather, he found the prospect far too arous-_no_. _No_, the idea made him uncomfortable. Very, _very _uncomfortable.

'Oh _lord_.'

Takeru glanced over to find that Daisuke, who apparently couldn't keep his gaze on the screen to save his life, was once again staring at him with that _look _in his eyes, like he was about to melt right where he sat.

The goggled idiot was probably getting some sick thrill out of this, the pervert.

Takeru glared down at the offending bag and thought about buying his own popcorn and emptying it right on Daisuke's head. He managed to refrain, though, if for no other reason than he wasn't about to waste his money on the other boy.

He repressed a sigh and had just lowered his gaze to his lap when a movement in the corner of his eye made him glance at his companion.

Daisuke's hand, once resting next to the one holding the popcorn bag, was now lying on the armrest, his elbow nudging just slightly into Takeru's personal space.

Part of Takeru cried out in outrage at the blatant display of perversion while the other part couldn't help but notice that Daisuke's skin looked soft and warm and that his own hand would fit just perfectly in-_no_. While the other part of Takeru couldn't help but notice that Daisuke's hand was begging to be stabbed, over and over again, until he screamed in agony, _screamed_.

As if on cue, there was a sudden shriek from the movie screen, and Takeru jerked his head up just in time to see a scantily-clad girl about to be introduced to her maker, albeit without much in the way of a head.

"Want some?" Daisuke asked, now holding the bag of popcorn on the armrest and smiling encouragingly.

Takeru stared at the bag, sighed, and dipped his hand inside.

---

"Tonight was fun, wasn't it?" asked Daisuke, who had considered it appropriate to _escort _Takeru to his own _door_.

"Mmhm," said Takeru, thinking that if the other boy tried to invite himself in for the night, he'd take Yamato's advice and hit him so hard he'd feel it for weeks.

"I was originally going to take you to the soccer game yesterday, but Taichi said that wasn't a good idea. Something about blonds and screaming."

"I don't mind soccer," said Takeru vaguely, fumbling in his pockets for his house key. "Maybe next time."

There was a long pause, during which Takeru found his key, reflected on his last statement, and cursed himself.

"Yeah," said Daisuke, staring at the blond with stars in his eyes and wearing a smile that could only be described as dreamy. "Next time."

Takeru figured that he'd best shut up now or he'd soon find himself married to the great goggled idiot.

He unlocked the door and struggled to find a polite way to bid Daisuke goodnight while at the same time informing him, even more politely still, that this hadn't been a _date_, really, not in the way that meant they were _dating _or anything silly like that.

"Oh, um, Takeru?"

"Hm?" said Takeru, and turned back around.

Then there was a hand on the back of his neck, nudging him forward, and a pair of soft, hesitant lips brushed against his. Takeru froze, part of his mind going, 'Um, hello? First date? Pervert?' and the other, much larger, part going, 'Oh. My. God.'

One of Daisuke's fingers flitted across a particularly sensitive spot on his neck, just near the pulse, and his knees trembled in response before he had another 'Oh, what the heck?' moment. Takeru pressed himself fully against Daisuke, letting his own fingers card through dark, spiky hair until they found the band of Daisuke's goggles, and he found himself grasping at it, using it as a weak source of leverage.

While he wasn't paying a whole lot of attention, Takeru's world – the one that had been bouncing around his head for around a week now – inconspicuously slipped back into its place on its axis and began to spin normally once again. When Takeru finally noticed this – around five minutes later, when he was alone and breathing heavily with his back pressed against the closed door – he wondered vaguely why, if this was true, he was still dizzy and stumbling.


End file.
